Page 141 of The Mars House

Three days later the fleet arrived from Earth. The air force escorted them down to a site twenty miles from Songshu, on the Plains. January had never seen so many ships in one place. There were tiny ones, ships that had been made with quick loops to the lunar colonies in mind, not the gruelling journey to Mars at aphelion. And there were the mighty Crossing ships, the ones so vast that if they ever landed, they would never take off again; they hung high above, their warning lights pulsing amber and glowing in the dust. Little shuttles struggled up and down, taking up supplies.

The dust storm was still howling, but that was to the good. It meant that no one could just wander off. It would have been difficult to anyway. The Plains altitude would knock most people flat if they left the pressurized cabins aboard the ships. The medication for it, the one Dr Okonkwo had given January, seemed not to exist on Earth—where, as Dr Okonkwo pointed out, it would be very difficult to travel from sea level to four miles up all at once.

With the leftover steel that had not been used on the solar rig, the same engineers and the same construction crews were putting up an old-fashioned biome, running in water pipes and power lines. Trenches were laid out everywhere the work was going on, the hexagon beehive skeleton of the dome was already half covering the site, and because cars were out of the question in the dust, teams of horses pulled carts loaded with resistance cages.

The army surrounded the whole site. Legions of tents stretched out in rows, and soldiers walked the boundaries. Searchlights powered through the dust haze.

“So far the Crossing ships aren’t letting our inspectors aboard,” a general told Gale as they rode together to the edge of the building work. January thought the wind might be dropping; he could hear them, even though they weren’t yelling. “They say they’re worried about names being taken, people arrested for extremism, human rights violations, all that crap. There are soldiers up there, not refugees, I’ll bet you my boots.”

“Why are you so sure?” said January. “It’s a valid concern. I never gave my name to anyone either. If they wanted to invade, would we not have seen tanks by now?”

“Or,” the general grumbled, “they’re waiting to get a good clear shot at the Consul and save themselves a lot of effort. They didn’t request that you came here, Consul, they demanded. No inspectors until they get a personal guarantee. That’s going to be an assassination attempt. I still advise strongly against your being here.”

The three of them, along with a lot of soldiers, were under a canopy that blocked the sight line of anyone not immediately ahead of them. It moved as they did, or rather, as the three horses did. Tharsis horses were tall, like everything else, and January was a long way off the ground. In front of him, though, Yuan seemed to be having the time of his life, twisting round to look at things and, when he wasn’t doing that, telling the horse made-up secrets.

January had one hand clamped firmly on the back of Yuan’s new cage. It was tiny and Yuan-sized, and he was struggling with it because of course it was making all his muscles sore, but he never wanted to take it off. It had little fairy wings on the back.

Gale had kept Yuan at Songshu after January was arrested. January hadn’t realized until they got home and there Yuan was, zooming along the koi pools in the entrance hall in brand new shoes with wheels in the heels.

“Is there any evidence that there are military people in there?” January asked.

“Aside from the fact that it’s clearly the most sensible thing to do? They don’t get to buy their way into Tharsis with uranium, they must have had a plan B. They’re not just going to sit here quietly, are they? They want to get into the city. I really advise you to send the child back,” they added.

“That’s speculation,” said January, who was getting quite good at going Full Gale at people who vexed him. “What about evidence?”

Yuan looked up, aware he was being talked about. He was here because having a child with them was the easiest way to show this wasn’t a war zone and they didn’t expect it to become one. January was nervous, and he knew Gale was scared, but neither of them had even discussed leaving Yuan behind.

The general shut their teeth, annoyed. “No.”

A small side ramp on the biggest of the docked ships was easing down, very slowly. It was just big enough for one person to come down.

“All right?” January asked Gale.

“Nope,” Gale said lightly, knuckles white on the reins.

January knocked their shoulder. “If we’re still alive in fifteen minutes, I’ve brought some yay-we-survived sparkle cookies. They’re in my bag.”

Gale laughed. “You’re so smart.”

Someone was coming slowly down the first ramp with the awkward rolling gait of a person not used to the cage or the gravity yet. January had a pang of sympathy nausea. It was absolutely weird, to step out of those ships and onto a world, but to feel instantly that the gravity wasn’t what your body remembered gravity being on the ground.

When she was close enough to talk, January slid down from the horse, lifted Yuan down too, and went up to meet her. He shook her hand.

“Welcome to Mars, Ambassador.” It sounded strange to say something formal and important in English.

She smiled a bit. She looked exhausted. “Oh, Mx Stirling. I can’t believe the Consul let us land. We all thought we’d be shot down.”

“No, ma’am. I know it’s frustrating for people not to be able to get out yet, but we’re doing our best, we really are.”

“No, we understand,” she said, sounding sincere, at least. “You—who’s this?” She looked disconcerted to find a child here but, like January had hoped, halfway to being reassured.

“This is Yuan,” January said, setting him down the ground. Yuan had never said as much, but January had a feeling he wouldn’t like being carried around all the time instead of being allowed to walk if he were so small.

“I’m three,” Yuan added seriously. He didn’t speak English, but of course he knew what his own name sounded like.

“I’m fifty-one,” the ambassador said, switching over, and January grinned. Educated in Beijing of course. He liked that about American diplomats. Despite all the rhetoric, all the rich families made sure their kids went to all the best schools. It was nice and human. “Good to meet you, Yuan. I love your cage. Are those fairy wings? I’m so jealous. It’s . . . new, right?” she added, with an uncertain flick of her eyes to January.

Yuan beamed. “Brand brand new.”